


Carve your name unto my arm

by Kaesteranya



Category: Final Fantasy Tactics
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:26:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carve your name unto my arm

**Author's Note:**

> 31 Days theme date: July 17, 2007.
> 
> Watch out, folks: there are references to the FF7 universe in this one.

Ever since they had retrieved the sword from its resting place in the volcano, Cloud Strife — by far, the most mysterious member of Ramza’s party — refused to use any other weapon but that strange, impossibly long yet strangely blunt blade. Ramza might have protested (individual idiosyncrasies were only tolerable insofar as they did not effect the party’s battle capabilities), but for some inexplicable reason Cloud performed phenomenally better with the sword in his hands, and was suddenly capable of performing fantastic moves whose likes had never been seen before in all of Ivalice whenever he wielded it.

 

There was no logical explanation to it. The mages in Ramza’s party claimed, with certainty, that there was no sorcery at work; the magic knights theorized that it may be similar to their own respective styles, but it still did not explain why Cloud’s skills were dependent on a particular blade. Asking Cloud himself, of course, yielded no results: between him and Balthier, another “traveler”, Cloud talked less about himself or the place that he had come from.

 

Ramza would not share this with anyone, but he actually had a personal theory on how Cloud was dependent on the blade for strength — that the blond ‘SOLDIER’ allowed no one to handle the sword but himself and would sometimes be spotted running his fingers across its blade like he was looking for answers confirmed his suspicions. Ramza knew a ritual born out of the memories of a dear friend when he saw one: he, for one, still kept Delita’s favorite blade from their youth tucked away in the party’s war chest, and maintained it in the hopes that someday, Delita would come back.


End file.
